


Roman Holiday

by distortedreality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Faeries Made Them Do It, Literal AU, M/M, Magical Shenanigans, self-indulgence at its finest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distortedreality/pseuds/distortedreality
Summary: After being captured by a group of faeries, Stiles and Derek are forced to act out scenes from famous romantic movies (completely for their benefit of course).Derek + Boombox (Derek + nudity) (Derek + pottery) and Stiles + the inability to be serious = a happy ending with a little help from the Rolling Stones





	Roman Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the film scenes I’ve chosen to include here are not necessarily the “best” scenes of all time, nor are any of these (bar one, because that movie was my childhood) included on my list of personal favorites.
> 
> A list will be posted in the end notes for if anyone is interested in checking out the original movie scenes.
> 
> Massive thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos on my previous works, you’re all fantastic xx

The sex wasn’t meant to happen. It was just another bullet point on the extremely long list of questionable decisions Stiles had made over the previous few months, and at a vulnerable time for both him and Derek. Stiles couldn’t decide who was a sadder son of a bitch, but it was probably Derek because that boy – man? Boy man? – had practically been an entity of sad since Boyd died. Not that he’d show it, of course. Stiles erred just enough on the side of curiosity for it to be snooping to notice it. The whole ordeal with the Nogitsune and its accompanying baggage hadn’t been easy for Stiles either, and the almost-death of his best friends had just about pushed him over the edge. The push that he’d needed was Derek’s stupid snarky comments one rainy day in late spring. He couldn’t even remember what it was that Derek had said, but it had been enough for him to snap.

“Shut the fuck up, Derek,” Stiles had screamed. “Don’t you ever get tired of moping around and feeling sorry for yourself?”

“Like you’re not doing the same thing?” Derek had fired back, his hands balling into fists.

“At least I’m a semi-productive member of society, asshole.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

“You’re a fucking dickhead.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Really, you’re borrowing comebacks from preschoolers now?”

“Seriously, just go,” Derek glared, staring at the wall behind Stiles’ shoulder.

“You know what? No, I’m not going to. I’m not going to leave you to sit here and wallow in whatever issue you’ve picked for the day,” Stiles said, moving slowly towards Derek, barely realizing he was doing it. “Because you’re hurting, and I am too.” Stiles stopped a foot in front of Derek, refusing to break the hard gaze fixed on him.

“You don’t know anything,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“I think I do,” Stiles replied. He paused for a moment before giving Derek a small shove to the shoulder. Derek caught him by the wrist as he retracted his hand, yanking Stiles in closer.

“Stop being stupid,” he all but whispered, not loosening his hold around Stiles’ wrist.

“You’re the one who’s—,” Stiles trailed off when he felt Derek’s breath wash over his lips. He hadn’t realized how close they had gotten. He swallowed and glanced up to meet Derek’s eyes, which were flitting between Stiles’ eyes and lips. At the same time they both pushed forward, their lips meeting with a force that was almost violent. Derek pushed into Stiles’ body, forcing him to step backwards through the room. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s shoulders to steady himself, letting himself be directed backwards through the loft. He grabbed at the front of Derek’s shirt, attempting to pull it off as they walked. After a few steps Derek obliged, yanking his shirt over his head and pulling Stiles’ off so fast he would probably have to check it for tears later on.

“God, you’re so—,” Derek started, pulling his jeans down his legs and kicking them off.

“Fucking stupid,” Stiles finished off for him, nearly busting his zipper in the haste to get his jeans off. As soon as his underwear had been pushed down his legs, Derek pushed Stiles onto the bed and knelt on the floor in between his knees. At the first touch of the warm mouth on his cock, Stiles threw his head back in a moan, thrusting his hips up slightly. Derek parted his lips and let Stiles’ cock slip between them, bobbing his head up and down in a rhythm that matched the one Stiles had created. Derek pulled off and grabbed Stiles by the hips, yanking him further down the bed so his ass was level with the edge.

“Hurry up,” Stiles commanded, reaching down to stroke himself as Derek fumbled in his bedside table. Under less exciting circumstances Stiles probably would have laughed at the image of Derek grabbing a handful of items from the drawer and dumping them on the floor in his haste to find the lube, but orgasms were more important. Specifically the one Stiles was about to have without Derek, if he didn’t hurry up. Which he had said out loud.

“Shut up,” Derek replied, throwing an iPod at Stiles’ head. Stiles fumbled to catch it, pressing buttons as he did so.

“God, you _would_ have an iPod Classic,” Stiles muttered, throwing it up the bed to land on the pillows. Derek responded by sucking Stiles’ cock down to the root. Stiles pushed his knees apart, giving Derek room to press two slick fingers to his hole. He jerked his cock as Derek opened him up quickly and messily, moving quickly to three fingers, and then four. They both scrambled further up the bed, Stiles’ elbow landing on the stupid iPod. As Derek lined his cock up with Stiles’ hole and began to push in the iPod started to loudly play. In the movie scenes where the character loses their virginity the music is usually soft and romantic. Instead Stiles got to lose that form of his virginity to ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ by The Rolling Stones.

“Make it shut up,” Derek moaned, pushing Stiles’ knees up and starting to thrust.

“It’s not a bad song,” Stiles replied. Derek ignored him, giving a hard thrust that made Stiles’ toes curl. The position didn’t leave Stiles much leverage to meet Derek’s thrusts, so he grabbed Derek’s shoulders and pushed him down, rolling them over. As he sank down on Derek’s cock the song began to play again from the beginning. Derek slapped his hand out to shut it off, throwing the iPod clean out the open door when he grabbed it. His hands returned to Stiles’ ass, helping to bounce him on his cock.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Derek muttered, squeezing Stiles’ ass. It only took a few more thrusts for Stiles’ toes to curl and a moan to rip from his throat. He felt Derek’s cock jerk inside him and came down in time to see Derek’s head thrown back in the pillow, bare neck extended. Stiles wasn’t proud of how he practically fled to the bathroom, but once the anger from their fight had dissipated the situation was terrifying.

“Alright, so you fucked your friend. No big deal. Totally no big deal,” Stiles muttered, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Of course, it was a big deal, but denial could totally work. Derek had already dressed once he slipped back out of the bathroom.

“So are we cool?” Stiles asked as he pulled his jeans back on.

“Yeah, it was no big deal,” Derek replied, handing Stiles his shirt from the floor.

Three weeks later they still hadn’t talked about it.

“Dude, seriously?” Scott cried as he flopped onto Stiles’ couch. “You’ve seen him at least twice since then. How it that not the only thing you’re talking about?”

“Because it was nothing,” Stiles replied. Scott was really messing with his ability to shoot pixelated zombies.

“You do realize I can hear your heartbeat, right?”

“Shut up.”

“So if it wasn’t nothing then what was it?”

“Why does this feel like we’re teenage girls gossiping over the phone?” Stiles asked, pausing the game to face Scott with raised eyebrows.

“Because we basically are. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“ _Fine_. It wasn’t nothing to me but it was nothing to him, ok. Can we drop it now?”

“And you know this how?” Scott asked, grabbing the controller out of Stiles’ hands.

“Because he said so.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Those exact words?”

“ _Yes_ , Scott.”

“Ah … well… there’s not much else to interpret from that then, is there?”

“Nope.”

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to say that he’s stupid and I hate him?”

“Well you don’t have to since _I_ don’t hate him. It’s cool. It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

“Right, then,” Scott nodded. “Pizza and video games is the perfect cure-all for this situation.”

After a month or two of reprieve from ridiculous supernatural happenings, naturally everything would go tits up in spectacular fashion.

“Someone’s been in the woods,” Derek declared at the next pack meeting.

“Literally a hundred people would have been in the woods this week,” Stiles said. Everyone ignored him. Typical.

“Anything to worry about?” Scott of course was taking this seriously. Stiles, on the other hand, has been unable to take anything Derek said completely seriously since he made him cum. That’s not an image that is ever getting wiped from his brain. Not that he really wants it to.

“The smell is odd; almost sweet. It’s unnerving.”

“Derek Hale disliking all things sweet in life, shocker,” Stiles mumbled. Derek shot him a glare. Scott kicked him under the table.

After the first kidnapping Stiles starts taking it seriously, despite Derek’s ridiculous face. The missing girl went to their school, and disappeared from her house next to the woods. According to Derek, her room was filled with the same sickly sweet smell the woods had. The next two kidnappings do as well.

The night they all trample through the woods is warm and slightly damp, the rain having stopped after a solid two days of uncharacteristic downpour. Stiles had helpfully drawn up a grid on a map to help search the woods, and somehow in the commotion Scott had ditched him as a travel buddy and he was stuck with Derek. The apologetic look thrown at him by Scott wasn’t nearly enough. He’d managed to avoid being left alone with Derek since they’d slept together. Having to push down his attraction towards Derek is enough, but not putting his foot in his mouth is definitely not a strong suit. Naturally, Derek doesn’t even hint at mentioning them as a _them_ , meaning it’s all Stiles can think about. After tripping over three tree roots in as many minutes Derek finally breaks.

“You should probably tell me what’s on your mind before you trip and kill yourself.”

“Haha. Funny. Who knew you were a comedian?” Stiles paused. “Nothing’s up.”

“You’re lying.”

“You know, it’s not fair that you’ve got this insight into what I’m thinking but you’re like a brick wall of emotion.”

“But I don’t. Know what you’re thinking, that is. I never do. You’re not as open as you think,” Derek trailed off. After a moment he hand shot out to pull Stiles back towards him. “The smell’s here.” Stiles whirled around, eyes flicking between the trees but not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

Stiles’ famous last words are “I don’t see anything” before something wallops him over the head and his vision goes black.

It’s faeries because of course it is. The glitter over victims’ rooms should probably have tipped them off, but Stiles just assumed they’d all been super into arts and crafts. The faeries looked nothing like Disney would have had him believe, instead they look like tiny goblins in ridiculously festive outfits. He glanced around the room, which looked like the inside of a hollowed out tree trunk the size of a football field, filled to the brim with tiny evil people with wings.

“You’re both very interesting, you know,” a voice sounded from off to the side of them. Stiles turns to see a faery dressed in a bright blue tunic with her palm on the side of Derek’s neck.

“What are you doing to him?” Stiles asked, eyes fixed on Derek who isn’t moving a muscle, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead.

“He’ll be fine. I had to subdue him. Quite a feisty one, isn’t he?” The faery smiled down at Derek. “I would have had the two of you killed on sight, but lucky for you I’m feeling charitable today. Don’t even think about it,” she said as Stiles stepped towards Derek.

“What do you want?” Stiles asked.

“I want to help,” the faery smiled.

“Yeah, sure.” Stiles inched towards Derek, but stopped when the faery stretched out her hand. It was covered in blue powder, a sickly sweet smell wafting from it.

“You’ll thank me later,” the faery said, before blowing the powder into Derek’s face. Stiles sprinted towards them, only to receive the same treatment. At the first touch of the powder on his skin, Stiles’ knees buckled and he fell to the floor a few feet from Derek.

“Fuck,” he muttered, using all his strength to turn Derek’s face towards him. Derek didn’t respond when he waved a hand in front of his face, instead he slumped over onto Stiles sending them both crashing to the floor.

“Sweet dreams,” the faery sang, before everything went black.

Stiles felt like he was drowning. Everything was a deep shade of blue and smelt like a mix of daisies and bubblegum. His stomach swooped like he was riding the least fun rollercoaster in the world before he jerked awake on a bed. He gasped and coughed for a moment, gaining his breath back and having to concentrate to avoid throwing up. Now was not the time.

“What the fuck,” he mumbled, glancing around the room. He was lying on a hard bed in what looked like a girl’s room, the window to the right open enough for a breeze to ruffle the curtains. “If I’ve fallen asleep in a girl’s room instead of getting lucky I’ll be so annoyed.” The room was too nondescript to get a reading on whose it was. Definitely not any of the girls in the pack, or his social circle. After a moment the sounds of a familiar tune filtered through the window. Stiles fell off the bed in his haste to rush over, and threw open the window with a jolt. Derek was standing underneath the window with a Boombox of all things, looking far too grumpy for the grand romantic gesture he was undertaking.

“The dream of so many teenage girls is finally be fulfilled,” Stiles called down, laughing at the deepening frown on Derek’s face. “If you wanted to ask me out you didn’t have to go all John Cusack on me. Not that I’m not thoroughly enjoying this. How’d you even get my Jeep?”

“I didn’t, dumbass. It’s the faeries. None of this is even real,” Derek replied, dropping the Boombox to the ground with a crash that made Stiles wince.

“What are you talking about? It’s cute that you’re doing this for me, you don’t have to pretend to be all big bad wolf.”

“Stiles, don’t you remember?” Derek called up as he yanked open the door of the Jeep. “The faeries put a spell on us or something. This isn’t real.” Stiles paused for a moment, looking down at the dented Boombox lying on the ground.

“Is that thing playing the Rolling fucking Stones?” Stiles cried. “Are you _serious_?”

“What’s wrong with the Rolling Stones?” Derek yelled. He looked offended.

“Nothing’s wrong with the band, you dumbass, it’s the _song_. Please tell me you know what I’m talking about or I might die of embarrassment.” Derek stopped rummaging around the seats of the Jeep for a moment to listen.

“Is this the song that was playing when we—“

“Yes,” Stiles cut Derek off. “You don’t need to finish the sentence, but yes. Hence why I figured this was your version of a declaration, or something.”

“Why are you even still up there?” Derek shouted, his head buried in the foot well of the Jeep. “Get down here and help me figure out what the hell’s going on.”

“Roger that,” Stiles called. “Hopefully I won’t die if I open the door.” He twisted the knob but no monsters jumped out at him. Instead the hallway was incredibly middle class American. He jumped down the stairs and rushed to the front door, pulling it open and jogging over to the Jeep.

“Do you have the keys?” Derek asked as Stiles got in the passenger side. Stiles patted his pockets before pulling out his key ring with a pleased “a-ha”. Derek twisted the key in the ignition, but the Jeep didn’t roar to life. Instead the radio crackled like it was searching for a station before settling on one that sounded like wind chimes.

“Hello, boys,” the voice sounded from the radio. Under better circumstances Stiles would have teased Derek over the way he growled at the radio. “We’re going to have a bit of fun. All for your benefit, of course. If you’re hearing this message then you’ve obviously ignored the directions given to you.”

“Directions?” Stiles asked, glancing over at Derek whose eyes were trained on the radio, hands clenched into fists on the steering wheel.

“Concentrate and you’ll be back home before you know it. If you mess up, don’t worry, you’ll have all the time in the world to get it right. Chao.”

“Dude, what directions?” Stiles said. “Come on, don’t fall off the band wagon here.”

“She means the words in the air,” Derek said, turning the knobs on the radio to no avail.

“What words? I don’t see any. _Derek_ ,” Stiles cried, grabbing Derek’s arm. Finally Derek stopped and turned to look at him.

“You must be ignoring them or something. Mine say _hold up the Boombox under the window until the music fades_.”

“I don’t see anything,” Stiles muttered.

“What is that…” Derek started.

Stiles didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant, because he was back lying on the bed in the room he had woken up in. Out of the corner of his eye were the words _stand by the window_.

“What the fuck,” Stiles muttered, but heaved himself off the bed and over to the window. Derek had kicked the Boombox a few feet towards the house, where it was skipping on parts of the song it was blaring out. “Didn’t she say to follow the directions?” Stiles called down.

“Throw your keys down,” Derek replied. After catching them he went straight to the Jeep to start it again.

“If you somehow manage to get it started you better not leave me here,” Stiles shouted.

“I’m considering it,” Derek called back. In protest the Jeep began to blare ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ from its tinny speakers. Impressively, the music from the Jeep lined up perfectly with that of the Boombox. Stiles couldn’t help but start to bop his head.

“Of all the songs they had to pick,” Stiles muttered. He moved around the room, opening drawers and picking up knick knacks, but nothing in the room looked helpful. Certainly no evidence of a magical door that would send them straight back to the loft, or somewhere equally convenient.

“Fuck.” Derek shouted from outside before Stiles found himself lying on the bed again. Immediately he ran to the window to see Derek beating the crap out of the very tired looking Boombox.

“It’s like a rubber band,” Stiles called, grimacing at the condition Derek had left the Boombox in. “It keeps snapping back when we don’t follow the directions.” Derek huffed and leant against the side of the Jeep.

“Who even does this kind of crap in real life?” Derek asked, kicking at the ground and waving his hand in the direction of the Boombox.

“Nobody outside of a Hollywood movie,” Stiles said, leaning against the windowsill. “Real life isn’t nearly this romantic.” They waited in silence for a few minutes before Derek tensed up and whipped his head around.

“It’s about to reset,” he said, and then Stiles was lying on the bed again. He sighed and moved over to the window, shoving it open and looking down. This time Derek had the Boombox above his head with a sour expression on his face.

“Ah yes, I’ve always wanted to be serenaded by a grumpy version of John Cusack,” Stiles joked. “Wait a minute.” He glanced around the room, and then back down to Derek holding the Boombox. “John Cusack.”

“What?” Derek asked.

“ _John Cusack_. I think this is the fucking scene from _Say Anything_. You know, the iconic shot of the guy holding up the Boombox under the girl’s bedroom window? Well I always dreamed I’d be in an 80s movie, but not like this.”

“Shut up, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Let me revel in this for a second.”

“ _Stiles._ ”

“Christ, fine, you grumpy guts.”

After a second Derek shouted “do you really think they’re going to make us listen to the entire song?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Stiles asked, still basking in the – albeit forced – serenade.

“It’s a fucking long song,” Derek cried. “And this thing isn’t exactly light.”

“Oh shut up, you’ve got werewolf strength.”

“Not here I don’t. Apparently at the moment I’m as weak as you.”

“You weren’t complaining about me being weak when I was riding your dick,” Stiles snapped back. Derek ducked his head, red coloring his cheeks. They were silent for a moment before the music began to trail off.

“Do you hear the wind chimes?” Derek asked. He’d given up on holding the Boombox above his head and instead had it cradled against his chest.

“Uh, no.”

“It’s faint. They chime every time it’s about to loop back.”

“But we did everything right this time,” Stiles cried. “God, this is like _Groundhog Day_. What’s the lesson we’ll have to learn, do you think?” He didn’t get to hear Derek’s answer because the world fell out from underneath him. At least it felt like that, even if he wasn’t actually falling.

He felt the cold before his vision cleared. Stiles immediately crossed his arms over his chest to keep out the temperature, goosebumps rising all over his skin. When his vision cleared he saw he was standing in a forest unlike the ones around Beacon Hills. This forest had moss climbing the trees and fog filtering in every which way, in contrast to the typically warmer woods he was used to.

“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Stiles muttered. He glanced around looking for Derek before catching sight of him in the direction opposite the one he had been facing.

“There’s a path here,” Derek called from behind a tree. Stiles jogged over, ignoring the lines flashing in his peripheral vision.

“Looks like a hiking trail,” Stiles supplied, falling into line next to Derek. They were only allowed to follow it for a few moments before they snapped back to their original positions.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles cried out. “I thought rubber banding was annoying in video games, but it’s ten times as irritating in real life.”

“Maybe we should just go with it,” Derek sighed. He looked resigned. Stiles nodded. He concentrated on finding the lines in his field of view, and started to read them out.

“You’re impossibly fast, and strong. Your skin is pale white and ice—hold the fuck up. No. _No_.”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

“ _Come on_ , faeries. _Twilight,_ seriously? You can’t throw out _Say Anything_ and then go to _Twilight_ , come on.”

“There’s definitely a joke there about you instantly knowing a movie marketed to love-struck teenage girls.”

“Shut up, Derek. Alright, hopefully every line isn’t necessary because I’ve missed a few. Uh … your eyes change colour – oh hey, that one could actually be about you. You’re basically a teen heartthrob already. Anyway, how old are you? Character you, not actual you.”

“Seventeen.”

“Derek, I’m gonna need you to tell me right now how long you’ve been seventeen,” Stiles said in an awful Southern accent.

“I thought this movie was set in the Pacific Northwest?” Derek asked.

“So you _have_ seen it.”

“ _Awhile_ , Stiles. I’ve been seventeen for a while, and it’s going to be a really long fucking while if we don’t move on here.”

“Jesus, Sourwolf, alright. I know what you are.”

“Say it. Out loud.”

Stiles doubled over laughing. “Hold on give me a second,” he said as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Vampire. Wait, is that species-ist? Should I have said werewolf?”

“Are you afraid?”

“Honestly, I’m afraid we’ll have to do this one again because I’ve fucked up so many lines.”

“God damn it.”

“May as well go for gold though. Continue your Oscar winning performance.” Derek just glared at him.

“Ask me the most basic question: what do we eat?”

“I don’t know, deer and rabbits or some shit? What _do_ you eat, anyway?”

“Seriously, Stiles?”

“Right, sorry. Uh, you won’t hurt me.” They paused for a moment.

“Is that it? Is it done?” Derek turned in a circle, eyes searching the forest. As expected they reverted back to their original positions. Derek’s glare was the only thing that kept Stiles’ from messing up his lines yet again.

“Hopefully the next world is somewhere warmer,” Stiles muttered, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. Derek shrugged off his jacket and offered it to Stiles. “I thought you said you were basically human here? Doesn’t that mean you’re cold?”

“Not particularly,” Derek replied. Stiles took the jacket and shrugged into it, finding it a better fit than he anticipated.

“So what’s the aim of this whole mess? Aside from our obvious pain and suffering, of course.” Stiles felt the now familiar drop in his stomach before Derek answered. The sweet small seemed to get even sicklier as they went on. The air felt heavy, and smelt like sticking your head inside a bag of dollar store candies.

The first thing Stiles noticed was the change in temperature. Wherever they had been dropped, it was warm and loud. Colours burst in Stiles’ vision, and wove together to form the shapes of people before him. Not that they would really be classed as people; more like weird faceless characters who looked like they hadn’t rendered properly yet. Derek’s jacket from the previous world was gone, and so was Derek, apparently. Stiles couldn’t see him on stage or anywhere in the crowd.

“Derek,” Stiles called out.

“Over here,” Derek replied from the side of the stage. He lifted his hand to wave slightly at Stiles.

“Dude, get over here. It’s weird standing up here alone.” Derek shook his head.

“There’s footprints, see,” he pointed at the ground. Stiles looked down to see a pair of glowing blue footprints underneath his feet. He stepped back but the prints didn’t move with him. Before Stiles could reply the opening keys to ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ filtered through the room.

“Well that’s definitely going to be a theme,” Stiles sighed. He glanced back towards Derek before clapping in amusement. “Holy crap _please_ tell me this is what I think it is. Dude your _hair_ , oh my god. Wait a minute, does that mean I’m the girl again? Derek why am I the girl again? Just because I let you stick your dick in me _does not_ make me the girl. Can faeries sense when you’ve been the bottom? Oh god I’m a twink aren’t it? Derek, help me out here.” Derek moved across the stage towards him, his eyebrows climbing higher with every sentence that spewed out of Stiles’ mouth.

“You done?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, then let’s move on.” Derek meandered across the stage infuriatingly slowly. He came to a stop in front of Stiles and grabbed his shoulder, swaying from side to side slightly. The instructions for the dance flashed quickly across Stiles’ field of vision.

“Dude, do you even know how to dance, because I sure as shit don’t.”

“Hopefully the dancing doesn’t matter that much or else we’ll be stuck here forever.”

“Spin to an arm’s length away then spin back and entwine fingers – I think we’re going to have to do this a couple of times,” Stiles yelled over the music. Despite their lack of movement the crowd of creepy faceless people erupted with cheers and hoots. Derek pushed Stiles backwards in an attempt to follow the footprints which were practically sprinting across the stage.

“So this one’s _Dirty Dancing_ , right?” Derek asked as he watched his set of footprints jump down from the stage.

“Hallelujah, you finally know a movie,” Stiles cried, slapping Derek on the back. As the music reached its crescendo the crowd cheered louder, and the sound of wind chimes could be heard faintly in the distance. Stiles was left standing in the center of the stage again, looking off at Derek in the wings.

“Alright, I’ll give this my best shot,” Derek declared, moving across the stage in what could only be described as a strut.

“Oh my god,” Stiles cried, unable to hold in his laughter.

“May I have this dance?” Derek asked giving an exaggerated bow.

“Derek, you know full well we’ve been practicing this routine for ages,” Stiles joked. He took Derek’s hand and they stumbled across the stage, keeping time with the footprints far better than before.

“Alright, visualize the movie,” Stiles shouted over the music. “Am I doing it right?”

“You kind of look like you’re trying to do the Charleston, actually,” Derek declared after a moment.

“You know what, that’s good enough.” Derek sent Stiles into a spin quicker than he could balance himself, leaving Derek with the job of steadying him before he fell over. “How the hell did Jennifer Grey do this?” Derek snorted in response.

The words _stare into each other’s eyes while spinning slowly together_ flashed and Stiles groaned.

“They could have at least given us an instructional video first.” He stared into Derek’s eyes stone faced. Derek only lasted a moment before breaking out into laughter.

“This is so ridiculous,” he spluttered.

“Now this is what I’m talking about: a happy, non Sourwolf Derek. Maybe we should force you to dance in front of an overhyped crowd more often,” Stiles yelled through a smile. “We could totally set up a stage at the next pack meeting and have you make your entrance that way. I guarantee the betas would love it.” They moved across the stage for a moment before Stiles tightened his hold on Derek’s arms. “Ignore the next line don’t you dare pick me up—“ He was cut off by Derek lifting him by the waist and spinning around. Stiles yelped and grabbed onto Derek’s shoulders to keep from falling. “I think you’ve got a secret flair for dancing,” Stiles shouted as Derek leapt from the stage into the aisle, with a similar amount of gusto that Stiles can remember Patrick Swayze having. Derek gave a lazy spin which was greeted with roaring approval from the crowd.

“Oh my god, _why_ do I not have my phone here to film this?” Stiles cried as Derek reluctantly slipped to his knees and attempted to do what Stiles guessed could be constituted as head banging. “Alright I’m going to have to jump in a sec so you better not drop me. If you let me fall I’ll put hair removal cream in your shampoo for the next ten years, I swear to god.”

“It’s fine, I won’t drop you.”

“You’re remembering the lack of supernatural strength, yeah?”

“You’re not that heavy.” Stiles sighed and stepped down from the stage, jogging towards Derek.

“ _Dude,_ ” Stiles yelled, laughing as Derek easily lifted him over his head. “Ok, this is great. I’m so glad we did this.” He whined in protest when Derek attempted to let him down, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist and punching the air with a whoop. “That was actually pretty badass,” Stiles remarked. Derek rolled his eyes, but waited a moment before putting Stiles down. Derek turned to bow for the creepy faceless people as the notes of the song faded out behind the approving cheers. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and held their clasped hands above their heads.

He was prepared for the feeling when it came; the swoop and the sickness and the smells barely registered anymore. What did register was the sudden coolness in his hand where Derek’s palm had been resting only a second prior.

The room Stiles opened his eyes too was possibly the most decorated space he’d ever been in. Every part of the room was ornate, right down to the seat in front of him. He didn’t want to move for fear of causing irreparable damage; literally any of the objects in the room looked like they would be worth more than his Jeep.

“Why does this look so familiar,” he muttered, glancing down at the sketchpad in his hands. “Derek?” he called out.

A faint “fuck sake” could be heard before Derek rounded the corner wearing what looked like a gold and black robe.

“This one isn’t happening,” Derek declared.

“Kinda is,” Stiles retorted, tapping his finger on the sketchbook. “What’s this one? I can’t figure it out. Definitely a period piece. It’s not _The Great Gatsby_ , is it?”

“Seriously? I’ll give you a clue: you have to draw me. Like one of your – fuck sake – French girls, Stiles.”

“Oh my god _yes_ ,” Stiles cried, clapping his hands together. “Finally you’re cast as the girl, and in, like, _the worst_ possible scene to have to act out.”

“You’re seriously enjoying this?”

“So are you going to drop your clothes or…”

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Derek said through gritted teeth. Stiles held up his hands and shrugged.

“No promises.” Derek sighed and dropped the robe. Stiles choked on air because Derek was wearing exactly zero items of clothing underneath and his dick was on full display.

“Definitely didn’t wake up today thinking I’d be showing you my dick,” Derek muttered.

“No, that was only in your dreams,” Stiles shot back. He slowly turned to see Derek was already lying on the couch in front of him, his eyebrows raised. “Don’t give me the judgey look,” Stiles said, flipping the sketchbook open.

“I can’t wait to see the Picasso level of artwork you’re about to produce here,” Derek teased. Apparently he’d gotten over the nudity issue as quick as it had arrived because he wasn’t covering his junk at all. Stiles had to concentrate so hard not to look at Derek’s dick he probably wouldn’t have noticed if the ship started to sink around them. The ridiculousness of the situation made Stiles chuckle, as he tapped the paper, looking for somewhere to start.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes at Stiles.

“Honestly, I’m just super happy to not have to be the one who’s naked in this scene. Also, I’m literally about to draw a stick figure instead of some serious artistic piece since my ability in that particular area hasn’t advanced past the fourth grade.”

“More than I expected of you anyway,” Derek teased. Stiles crumpled up a page from the sketchbook and threw it at Derek’s head.

“So are you wanting me to draw you an enormous dick or something? Stroke your ego a bit?”

“A stick figure sounds fantastic,” Derek replied, not humoring Stiles at all. He threw his arms above his head and pouted at the ceiling, shooting Stiles a look when he laughed at his expression.

“You don’t have to ham it up, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Stiles said as he began drawing.

“I’m literally lying naked in front of you – who is fully dressed – while you draw me. Not exactly the most comfortable situation I’ve ever been in.”

“Aw, Derek, don’t act embarrassed. It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked before,” Stiles teased.

“I swear to god if you even so much as mention the words ‘French girls’ after we get out of this mess I’ll murder you,” Derek retorted.

“Oh please, you’ll totally want to display this award winning piece of artwork on your wall. It’ll go great with your décor.” Stiles cast his eyes down and sketched a stick figure with a wolf head, smiling to himself as he added heavy eyebrows to the picture. He glanced back up to see Derek watching him, his expression soft. He smiled back before Derek got the chance to look away again. They sat in silence for a moment before Stiles declared “I think the likeness shows”. He gave the final touch of a squiggle of hair on top of the stick figure’s wolf head. “Wanna see?”

“Since I assume you’ve just drawn a dick with eyebrows, I’m going to have to say no,” Derek shot back. He grabbed a pillow and placed it over his crotch.

“Derek Hale, I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman,” Stiles gasped, pretending to be offended. “Your virtue is intact.” Derek just rolled his eyes. Stiles shoved the drawing at Derek, who took it reluctantly. He looked at Stiles and slowly shook his head before bursting into a fit of laughter. Stiles grinned back and threw Derek’s robe at him. The moment the material hit Derek’s skin they were dropped into the next world.

Stiles rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms and looked around the new room. It looked like a shed or art studio of some kind, given away by the bench sitting under the bright light in the center of the room.

“What one’s this?” Stiles asked as he advanced towards Derek who was sitting on a stool, his hands covered in a grey-brown colour.

“So you could recognize _Twilight_ immediately, but not _Ghost_?” Derek asked, turning to raise his eyebrows in Stiles’ direction.

“Put the judgey eyebrows away,” Stiles replied. “I’m already having to share in the apparent nudity here.”

“You’re shirtless. That’s not even comparable.”

“Derek Hale, are you asking me to take my pants off for you?” Stiles mock gasped, pretending to swoon. “Hey,” he cried when Derek flicked clay at him. “Scoot forward, I’m supposed to sit with you.”

“So you really don’t know where this one’s going?” Derek asked after a few moments.

“Nope,” Stiles replied, popping the ‘p’. “Wait you’re not about to shape my naked body out of clay or anything, right? Because after the last thing I don’t think anything’s off limits anymore.”

“You can keep your clothes on,” Derek sighed and cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m supposed to kiss you so I’ll just … yeah,” Derek trailed off. Stiles crossed his arms over his bare chest and waited. Quicker than he could prepare for it, Derek leaned in and pecked him on the lips. Stiles cleared his throat and watched Derek run his hands around the lump on the spinning table.

“So was that actually the line or did you just want to kiss me,” he teased.

“Shut up,” Derek said, elbowing Stiles in the chest. “Put your hands here,” he directed, grabbing Stiles’ fingers and slapping them on the lump. He sighed when Stiles squealed at the feeling of the clay between his fingers. “It’s clay, Stiles, not a bomb. Get your fingers in there.”

Stiles snorted. “That’s what she—“

“I swear to god.”

“So how come you know this movie so well?” Stiles asked. He let himself lean into Derek, resting his weight on the body in front of him.

 “My mom used to love this movie so I saw it way too many times. I used to sneak into the room when she was watching it.”

“And to think I was starting to think you’d never seen any movie ever,” Stiles teased. Derek placed his hands over Stiles’, and ran them up and down the clay. It was weirdly sexual and Stiles willed himself not to get a boner.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Derek muttered.

“It might help if you stopped jerking off the pottery,” Stiles retorted. Derek just sighed in response. Stiles was silent for a moment, ignoring the direction to kiss the back of Derek’s neck.

“If you don’t do it then we’ll have to do the scene again,” Derek whispered. Stiles pressed a soft kiss to the back of Derek’s neck, lingering there for a moment to feel the warm skin under his lips. He closed his eyes at the directions that followed, willing his heartbeat to calm down. Derek waited a moment before twining his fingers with Stiles’ and turning his head to press their lips together. They were still for a moment before Stiles took control of the kiss, moving his lips and pressing harder into Derek’s body. When they pulled back a few moments Stiles flushed a deep red as he took note of his semi-hard cock that Derek could no doubt feel pressed against his lower back.

“Sorry,” Stiles swallowed, casting his eyes downward.

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek whispered, his lips still only an inch away from Stiles’. As Stiles was debating throwing all rational thought to the wind and just leaning back in to kiss Derek again, the sound of wind chimes filled his ears. As he and Derek were ripped away from each other he could have sworn he heard something akin to a whimper escape Derek’s lips.

Stiles cursed when the cold nipped at his arms, his breath sending a cloud into the air. He shuffled his feet for a moment before knocking on the door of the house in front of him. As he waited for who he hoped was Derek to answer he studied the white pieces of card in his hands.

“Oh _yes_ ,” he giggled.

Derek opened the door and held up his hand as soon as Stiles opened his mouth.

“If you put on either a British accent or start singing Christmas carols I will slam this door in your face, don’t test me.”

“Rude,” Stiles sighed. “But right off the bat we’re going to have to do this one again since they’re given me the same cards as the movie and I want to change them.”

“Uh huh,” Derek said, eyeing him up warily. “I’ll grab you a pen then.” He disappeared for a moment but returned with a pen, handing it to Stiles with a raised eyebrow. “The houses here are fully decked out. It must have taken some serious magic to make this happen. Also, won’t whatever you’ve written just disappear when the scene loops back?”

“Hopefully not, but I’ll have to make this quick or it’ll cut me off, so shoo,” Stiles said, poking Derek’s chest with the pen when he leaned against the doorframe. “Go back inside.”

“Seriously?” Derek sighed, but complied.

“Right,” Stiles muttered, uncapping the pen and placing the cards on the ground. He shoved all of the cards to the side except the one which read “to me, you are perfect”. He flipped over three of the discarded cards and scrawled on the back of the paper, the pen poking clean through to the other side on the rougher bits of ground. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the scene to reset. The chimes came quickly, but the additions to the backs of the cards didn’t disappear.

“Alright, lay it on me,” Derek sighed as he opened the door. Stiles leant down to press play on the CD player he had been carrying, and groaned when the now familiar notes of ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ began to play as the soundtrack.

“They couldn’t have let us have ‘Silent Night’ just this once?” Stiles muttered. He checked to make sure the cards were facing the right way before shoving the first one towards Derek.

“Sourwolf,” Derek read aloud, pausing to say “really?” before continuing. “To me you are perfect … even when you pretend to be annoyed at my jokes … love Stiles. What a message for the ages,” Derek teased.

“Shut up, it was short notice,” Stiles smiled, throwing the remaining cards at Derek. “And please, you are totally the type of dude to be impressed by a grand gesture, don’t lie.” Derek stepped forwards off the stoop, ignoring the footprints which had started to move down the lane away from the door.

“I’ll kiss you now, no use having you walk down the street first,” Derek said, reaching forward to cup the back of Stiles’ neck.

“If you insist,” Stiles replied. The press of lips was short, but Stiles had to fight not to twine his fingers in Derek’s hair and press their bodies together. Derek rubbed his thumb back and forth over Stiles’ bottom lip after he pulled away, keeping their bodies close. Stiles watched his eyes go wide as he stepped backwards, practically shoving Stiles away.

“Sorry,” he said, ducking his head.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Stiles replied. He didn’t register the swooping feeling in his stomach that indicated the scene was over. Instead his mistook it for the swoop in his stomach.

A roaring sound faded in as Stiles’ vision cleared and was then obscured again by the pouring rain around him. Stiles’ clothes were immediately soaked through and he gasped at the sudden cold. The rain wasn’t all bad though, as it made Derek’s white shirt cling to his skin, revealing every dip in his muscles.

“Do this one quick so we don’t get pneumonia,” Derek called from down the dock.

“Do you think you could get sick here?” Stiles asked, flicking his hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t want to find out so let’s do this.”

“Why didn’t you write me?” Stiles called out. He paused to swear under his breath, kicking the toes of his shoe into the ground. “It … uh … it wasn’t over for me.” He stopped again and swallowed, scratching the back of his neck. “I waited for you for a year.”

“Seven years,” Derek corrected. “The line says seven years.” He stopped moving and fixed his eyes on Stiles. Stiles chewed his lip and stared out past Derek to the lake, not wanting to see the realization in his face.

“Sure, seven, whatever,” he muttered. The weight of Derek’s gaze felt heavy, but Stiles ignored it. “Now it’s too late,” he whispered.

Derek walked to stand in front of him, placing a hand on his arm. He waited for Stiles to meet his eyes before continuing his lines. “I wrote you 365 letters and … Stiles, why do I get the feeling you’re not totally in character here?” Stiles didn’t answer, and didn’t break his eye contact with Derek. “Well this isn’t just the line then, it’s me saying it to you: it wasn’t over and it still isn’t.” Derek pulled Stiles in by the back of the neck and pressed their lips together. Stiles let himself sink into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and sliding his tongue into Derek’s mouth. He let out an embarrassing whimper when they broke the kiss, clinging onto Derek’s arm and blinking through the rain still streaming down their faces.

“So was that you or Ryan Gosling talking?” Stiles asked after a moment.

“Me,” Derek said, gripping Stiles’ face tighter. “Not that I know you wouldn’t have loved to have Ryan Gosling here right now,” he joked.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Stiles replied. Before Derek could reply the sound of the rain faded and Stiles’ vision blurred to black. Stiles cursed the faeries for their infuriating timing.

Stiles came to in darkness. After his eyes adjusted to the faint light he registered small dots of stars littering the sky through a gap in what looked like a tent, judging by the size and the array of blankets scattered around. The night was peaceful, with only the faint sounds of animals and Derek’s slow breathing audible. The serenity lasted for only a moment before Stiles felt Derek violently shoot up to a sitting position beside him, instinctively reaching out towards him.

“Do you think this is almost the end?” Stiles asked quietly. “Surely the faeries have gotten tired of their crap little game already.” He waited for Derek’s reply, but none came. Derek was gripping the worn blanket beneath him hard enough that if he had been in his shifted form the fabric would have been ripped to shreds by his claws. “What do you think their angle is?” Stiles tried again, leaning forward to peek out of the gap in the tent. “Why make us act out movie scenes?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not doing this one,” Derek said, shifting onto his knees and reaching to untie the tent door, letting the fabric flop open.

“What is it? Can’t be worse than the stuff we’ve already done. I mean, I literally had to draw you naked.” Stiles put his hand on Derek’s arm and smiled at him. “I can’t see any directions, so you’ll have to tell me what to do.”

“No,” Derek shot back, shaking Stiles’ hand from his arm. “I’m going outside to look for something to help us out of this loop.”

“Hey,” Stiles said, reaching out to block Derek from moving out the doorway. “Look for what? There’s been nothing that could help us in any of the places we’ve been so far so I doubt there’s going to be a magical portal in the sky or some shit. Dude, we’re going to have to do whatever this is eventually. Seriously, unless you’re supposed to murder me or something then it’s not that bad.” He gave Derek what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I’m surprised you of all people haven’t seen this movie,” Derek muttered, turning away from Stiles.

“So I’m guessing I’ll be slightly offended when I figure out what it is, then. Since it’s definitely not _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_ it can’t be too crucial to who I am as a person,” Stiles teased.

“It’s _Brokeback Mountain_.”

“ _Seriously_ , Derek,” Stiles cried. “Why assume I’ve worn the DVD of this one thin?” Derek kept his mouth shut. “More to the point, you’ve never seen _Say Anything_ or _The Notebook_ but you’ve seen _Brokeback Mountain_ enough times to recognize it by a fucking tent at nighttime? That’s hilarious. And to think I thought you were straight. Before you fucked me, of course.” Stiles opened his mouth again to ask why Derek was so against acting out the scene but cut himself off so sharply his teeth clacked together. Clearly Derek didn’t want to do it again. Stiles decided he probably didn’t even want to know why, for the sake of his pride.

“I’m not doing it. I can’t,” Derek said, his shoulders hunched over. Stiles gave a sharp nod.

“Well, your choice, of course.” Derek’s eyes searched his face.

“You’re mad?” he asked, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“Well it’s not exactly helpful to my ego to basically get told I was so bad in bed that you don’t want an encore,” Stiles muttered, picking at the rough blanket beneath him.

“Stiles, that’s not it. Hey, look at me.” Derek grabbed Stiles’ chin and forced it upwards until he met Derek’s eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re clearly thinking it. It’s ok, it’s not like I had any experience in the area, so live and let learn, or whatever people say.” Stiles pushed Derek’s hand away from his face. “It’s fine, really. When we get back maybe you could give me a few pointers on how not to fuck up next time.”

“Stiles, you were good. Really. I can’t do this here because of me, not –“

“God, don’t say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’.”

“Well it is.” Stiles threw himself backward onto the blankets.

“Alright, go venture off and find a way out of here. When you eventually give up I’ll be here.” Derek slipped out of the tent without a reply. Stiles could hear him walking around outside, stopping every few moments. God knows what Derek was even doing, there couldn’t be any scents to catch or trails to follow that would get them out. The wind rustling through the grass and the occasional cry of a bird was soothing, and Stiles decided that if Derek wasn’t back within five minutes he would just go to sleep. Hopefully the faeries would be kind enough to let him sleep his rejection off instead of waking him up when the scene inevitably reset. As to be expected, the faeries weren’t interested in throwing Stiles a bone, and he was jerked awake to see Derek back next to him, a dejected set to his shoulders. Derek immediately slipped out the tent again, tying the door closed behind him. Stiles flopped back to the floor with a sigh.

Derek tried the same thing twice more before Stiles threw a blanket over his head and pulled him back as he tried to exit the tent after yet another reset.

“It’s clearly not working,” Stiles said after Derek had shaken the blanket from his head, glaring at Stiles.

“Fine,” he sighed, tearing his eyes from Stiles’.

“So what now?” Stiles asked. “Candles? Sexy music?”

Derek cleared his throat before saying “well in the movie they sleep together”.

“No shit Sherlock,” Stiles scoffed. “Gonna need more info than that, big guy.”

“There isn’t much else. They don’t speak, but it’s … violent in a way. I’m not going to do that to you.”

“Didn’t have much of a problem last time,” Stiles muttered.

“It’s not like we were. This is angry. What we did was … passionate. At least it was for me.” Stiles sat up to look at Derek.

“Do you see it?” he asked.

“See what?”

“In the movie, do you see the sex in graphic detail?”

“No but—“

“Then it’s open to interpretation. I’m not looking to do anything without lube here, either, but maybe we can improvise.”

“What do you suggest?” Derek asked.

“Just … trust me here,” Stiles said.

He grabbed Derek’s arm and tugged him down on the blankets next to him. Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles cut him off with a press of lips. He deepened the kiss immediately, slipping his tongue into Derek’s mouth and pulling him closer. Instead of pulling back Derek slipped his fingers into Stiles’ hair and tugged him closer. The sound of their lips was wet and loud against the tranquil backdrop, and the sound of Derek’s whimper cut through the night air as Stiles sucked his tongue into his mouth. Spurred on by the noise, Stiles rolled onto Derek, slipping between his spread knees and pushing their bodies together. Derek tensed for a moment before biting back a moan. He grabbed Stiles’ ass with his hands and pulled him even closer, locking their hips together and pressing their clothed cocks against each other. Stiles broke the kiss to drape a blanket over them so that their lower halves were obscured. He ground down with his hips, drawing a high keen from Derek.

“This might actually work,” Derek choked out, fingers digging into Stiles’ ass hard enough that there would likely be bruises afterwards. Stiles reached for his zipper, fumbling it open at the same time as Derek opened his. Stiles kicked off his jeans, letting them slap against the tent wall. He covered Derek’s body with his and pressed their hard cocks together, grinding down into the body underneath him. Derek swore under his breath and began to set the pace, moving Stiles’ hips where he wanted them. Stiles ducked his head and bit the join between Derek’s neck and shoulder on a particularly good thrust, his moan muffled by the skin pressed against his lips.

“Can you come like this?” Stiles moaned. Derek nodded, pausing to spread his legs wider to allow Stiles more room.

“Fuck,” Derek swore under his breath. His hands roamed up Stiles’ back and down to his ass, where he spread the cheeks.

“Shit, careful,” Stiles whispered. He whimpered when he felt a finger slip between his cheeks, wet from Derek’s mouth. Derek rubbed his finger against the hole, until Stiles pushed back on it, sliding it in to the first knuckle. After another thrust Stiles felt Derek tense up beneath him, the hand on his back turning into a fist. Derek hid the sound of his orgasm in Stiles’ neck, shuddering through the waves. Stiles began to push back onto Derek’s finger faster, his own orgasm quickly catching up with him.

“Come for me, baby,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ neck, sucking a mark into the skin. “You’re doing so good for me.” The whispered praise combined with the movement of his hips and his finger thrusting in and out of Stiles’ ass sent Stiles over the edge. The orgasm ripped through him, drawing a series of moans from his throat. Derek pulled him down onto his chest and kneaded Stiles’ ass cheeks, whispering into his ear. Thankfully the sounds of chimes weren’t immediately audible, since Stiles didn’t think he could have stood up for anything short of a miracle.

“Do you think it worked?” Stiles asked, the question loud in the quiet night.

Derek nodded against the side of Stiles’ head. “I can hear the chimes.” Stiles pushed up off of Derek and reached for his pants, grimacing at the feel of the drying cum against his skin. He strained his ears and heard the tinkling of the chimes for a moment before the picture of Derek lying in the rumbled blankets faded to black.

Stiles gave a whoop when his vision cleared enough for him to see Derek sitting next to him on a large white staircase. He rubbed his hands together and turned to face Derek, his face split wide in a smile.

“I’m guessing you know this one?” Derek asked, his face amused.

“Not that I will ever admit it but _Clueless_ is definitely in my top five movies. You can never mention that,” Stiles said, pointing his finger at Derek who mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. “Let’s skip the first few lines and go straight to you telling me I’m beautiful,” Stiles declared, shifting on the stairs to move closer to Derek.

“Uh huh” was Derek’s reply, though he looked fond. “You’re young and beautiful,” he said, rolling his eyes. “God, you love this don’t you?” he laughed.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Stiles cried, his hand over his heart.

“Yes, you absolute _idiot_ ,” Derek said, laughing. He grabbed Stiles’ hand and shifted his body closer.

“Don’t think that was in the script,” Stiles tutted.

“Well let’s skip to the other true parts,” Derek declared. “I care about you, Stiles. A lot. And not in the way that I maybe should. Definitely not in the same way that I care about the rest of the pack. I didn’t want to act out the scene in the tent with you because I thought you regretted it after we slept together.”

“I didn’t regret it—,“ Stiles started to say, but Derek cut him off.

“I know that now, which is why I’m telling you this. I’m so serious about this, and I think you are to.” Stiles nodded hard enough to clack his teeth together.

“I didn’t know … _I_ thought _you_ regretted it. You said – and I quote – ‘it was no big deal’. That’s a pretty clear declaration of how someone feels.”

“I only said that because I heard you say it and I didn’t want you to feel awkward, or whatever. The bathroom isn’t exactly soundproof,” Derek teased.

“So basically we’re both idiots?” Stiles asked.

“Yep.”

“Fantastic.”

They reached for each other at the same time, Stiles’ arms wrapped around Derek’s shoulders, and Derek’s hands in Stiles’ hair, their lips pressed together in the middle. After a moment the quiet room exploded in noise, and Stiles and Derek shot apart, both assuming defensive positions. The grand staircase and fancy room were gone and had been replaced with a crowd of cheering faeries inside of the hollowed out tree trunk. At the sight of a number of faeries advancing towards them, Derek shifted and pushed Stiles behind his back, baring his teeth at the faery who had come to a stop directly in front of them.

“Oh, fantastic, great to see you again,” Stiles shouted, stepping around Derek’s shoulder to get a proper glare in at the faery. “Thanks for sending us into that Hollywood hell spiral.”

“Despite the thinly veiled sarcasm in that sentence I can assure you that you will be thanking us later,” the faery said sweetly, pausing to bare her teeth back at Derek. “Not that I can understand your choice of partner. He doesn’t exactly have the sweetest demeanor, does he?”

“I might be a bit nicer if you hadn’t magically kidnapped us and sent us down a rabbit hole of universes,” Derek hissed through his fangs.

“Oh please, you never left this room,” the faery tutted. Stiles’ cheeks heated up.

“So is this how you get off then? Watching people fuck inside their joined minds, or whatever the hell this was?” Stiles asked, shooting his best glare at the faery’s stupid green face.

“Regardless of how you feel, I’m feeling generous enough to let you go. Since you put on _such_ a good show,” she said, winking at Stiles.

“You’re lucky I’m not ripping your limbs from your body,” Derek growled.

“Leaving is your choice. I could send you back to where I just retrieved you from, if you’d prefer,” the faery said icily, her empty palm suddenly filled with blue powder.

“As great as that offer is we’re going to have to decline. Isn’t that right, Derek?” Stiles asked, pinching Derek’s arm. Derek nodded once, stiffly. “Great. If you could just pop us back into the woods then that’d be fantastic.” The faery smiled stiffly but replaced the blue powder in her palm with a pinch of yellow colour, which she threw over Stiles and Derek. The scene in front of their eyes abruptly changed as they were suddenly standing in the woods where they had originally disappeared from.

“Safe travels, boys,” the faery’s voice trickled through the leaves of the trees surrounding them.

“I strongly suggest you move your pervy congregation elsewhere,” Stiles called out, spinning around in place. “Because if we find you again we won’t be so caught off guard.”

“Of course,” the faery said, her laughter floating past like sounds caught on a breeze.

“Let’s go,” Derek muttered, grabbing Stiles’ arm and dragging him back the way they had come.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Stiles asked after a moment. All the trees looked identical to him.

“Of course,” Derek scoffed. “I’m following our scent trail.” After a few moments of walking in silence Derek reached out to take Stiles’ hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Did you mean it?” Stiles asked after a few minutes. “All the stuff you said?”

Derek jerked to a stop, forcing Stiles to follow suit.

“I meant every word I said,” he declared, his fingers dancing down the length of Stiles’ arm.

“Good, because I did too, Stiles said, before pitching forward to press their mouths together. The kiss was short but conveyed exactly what he needed it to. Derek smiled at Stiles sweetly, taking his hand again and leading him forward.

After an hour or so they finally found the Jeep – with much help from Stiles, he liked to think. Stiles pressed Derek against the side of the Jeep and kissed him hard enough to leave him breathless.

“Come home with me first,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips. The heat of their combined breaths was warm in the cool air.

“What if someone’s there waiting for you?” Derek asked, his fingers encircling Stiles’ wrist.

“Then they’ll see that we’re fine,” Stiles said, kissing Derek again. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Ok, but we’re heading straight to the loft after.”

“Please, you’re ruining my afterglow before it’s even here.”

“Shut up,” Derek said playfully, pushing Stiles towards the driver’s side door.

“Yes, thank god,” Stiles cried when he twisted the key in the ignition and the Jeep started up. Derek just smiled over at him from the passenger seat. He twisted their fingers together and held Stiles’ hand between gear changes for the full drive back to the loft. Stiles drove all the way to his house in a low gear to avoid having to let go of Derek’s hand.

“Your father’s not here,” Derek said as Stiles twisted the key in the lock of the front door. “Though he might come back if someone calls him about someone breaking in.”

“Fuck off, it’s taking me this long because you’ve got your _hands_ all over me, buddy.” After three tries Stiles finally unlocked the door, tripping over his own feet in his haste to pull Derek over the threshold. Derek pressed him against the wall and sucked a mark onto Stiles’ neck. He pulled down Stiles’ jeans in one quick motion and dropped to his knees, taking Stiles’ cock down to the base.

“Oh god,” Stiles groaned, fisting his hands in Derek’s hair. Derek relaxed his throat and let Stiles pull his head backwards and forwards, allowing him to control the rhythm.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name already,” Derek replied after pulling off Stiles’ cock and working it with his hand.

“Shut up and fuck me already” was Stiles’ reply. They stumbled up the stairs to Stiles’ room, shedding clothes as they went. Derek flopped onto the bed as Stiles snagged the lube and condoms from under his bed, almost tearing the box in half as he tried to open it.

“Slow down there,” Derek chuckled. His hand worked his own cock slowly, watching Stiles with amusement.

“You cannot expect me to move slowly when you’re sitting there like that,” Stiles retorted. He swung a leg over Derek and ground his ass down onto Derek’s cock, the hard length slipping between his cheeks to rub over his hole. Derek grabbed the lube and made quick work of stretching Stiles, making his way up to three fingers quickly enough that Stiles could still feel a slight burn.

“How do you want it?” Derek asked as Stiles rolled the condom down over him.

“Like this,” Stiles replied as he straddled Derek’s lap again, one hand braced on the bed and the other lining up Derek’s cock. He moaned as he sank down, his muscles stretching tight around Derek and feeling every inch of him.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be your favourite position?” Derek groaned as Stiles pushed up and sank back down slowly, his muscles fluttering around Derek as he adjusted to the stretch.

“Because it is,” Stiles replied. “Who wouldn’t want to have you laid out underneath them?” One of Derek’s hands came up to rest on Stiles’ hip, the other threading its way through the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck and tugging him down for a filthy kiss, their tongues rubbing against each other. Stiles sat back up and leaned forward to grip the headboard, using it as leverage to fuck back down on Derek’s cock faster. After a few changes in angle he found the one that made his toes curl and his nerves light up. He fucked back down harder and faster, working himself to completion on Derek’s cock.

“I’m getting close,” Stiles moaned. Derek surged up to kiss him again, raking his fingernails down Stiles’ back hard enough to leave red trails. A few more thrusts and Stiles was done. He threw his head back and dug his nails into the headboard, spurting cum across his stomach and Derek’s chest.

“Holy shit,” Derek moaned. His fingers gripped Stiles’ hips tight as he watched him cum. Stiles continued to fuck himself on Derek’s cock as his orgasm came to a close, angling it slightly away from his now oversensitive prostate. He leaned backwards to roll Derek’s balls around in his hand as he rode them, wringing Derek’s orgasm from him quickly. Derek dug his fingers into Stiles’ hips as Stiles finished him off, squeezing his muscles around Derek as he spurted into the condom.

“Holy shit,” Stiles said. He rolled off Derek to lay next to him on the bed, still trying to catch his breath.

“Well, good to know the great sex wasn’t a fluke,” Derek said. He stretched his arms above his head, back cracking.

As it turned out, Derek was a cuddler and forgot all about his demand to head straight back to the loft after they finished. Not that Stiles was complaining.

“So I know they weren’t the best of circumstances, but just so you know I totally wouldn’t say no to you standing under my window with a Boombox. Or any other grand romantic gesture, really,” Stiles suggested. He rested his chin on Derek’s chest, circling his fingers around Derek’s chest hair.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“You know, you could also do that for me,” Derek replied, carding his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

“That’s a bit too lowkey,” Stiles said. “Hiring a flashmob or a skywriter would be more my style. Maybe I’ll take you to New York and rent out one of the screens in Times Square.”

“Oh god,” Derek groaned. “You’ve been watching too many romantic comedies.”

“Hey, we’ve basically lived a romantic comedy at this point, so it’s not even a hobby anymore, it’s real life.”

“I still can’t believe you said _Clueless_ was in your top 5 movies of all time.”

“Hey, you’re the one who recognized fucking sex scene from _Brokeback Mountain_ with basically no warning but not the god damn iconic _Notebook_ scene. And to think I thought you were straight. You may actually be more gay than me.”

Derek just rolled his eyes in response and tugged Stiles up to lay next to him, curling his body around him.

“You know we have to get up some time,” Stiles whispered.

“No.” Stiles could feel Derek shaking his head from where it was pressed against the back of his neck.

“If we don’t go soon I’ll have to assume that you’re waiting to be able to go for round two, and then we’ll never leave here.”

“Maybe I am,” Derek replied. True to his word, Derek waited long enough for Stiles to start to take interest again in Derek’s cock resting against his ass before sliding down the bed and taking him in his mouth, slipping two lubed up fingers into his hole as he sucked. Stiles finished in an embarrassingly short amount of time thanks to the dual assault on his dick and prostate. The sight of his cum streaking Derek’s beard was nearly enough to make him completely hard again, though.

“Alright, let me do you and then we really should get going. The pack’s probably worried shitless,” Stiles said, sliding off the bed and pulling Derek’s hips towards him. He licked up and down Derek’s length before taking him fully into his mouth, sucking right down and hollowing his cheeks. “Jesus, you sound like you’re from a porno,” Stiles murmured, leaning back down to take Derek back into his mouth. He sat back on his heels when Derek started to thrust up, his cock twitching slightly and spilling precome into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles slipped a finger in alongside Derek’s cock, wetting it, and reached down to rub it against Derek’s hole. Derek groaned so loudly when he came that it sounded like a howl, and Stiles was half afraid that the pack would hear it and come running, thinking Derek was in trouble.

“Come on, big guy,” Stiles said, slapping Derek’s thigh. He gathered up their clothes from around the house and brought Derek’s back to him, pulling on his own jeans as he did so.

“We should probably shower first,” Derek groaned, heaving himself up off the bed. Stiles protested, but relinquished when Derek offered to wash his hair for him. True to his word, Stiles’ hair had never felt so thoroughly washed in its life. They drove the Jeep over to the loft in record time, Derek fidgeting constantly the whole way.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Stiles asked as he pulled the Jeep into a parking spot.

“I just feel bad that our friends probably thought we were dead while we were –“

“They don’t need to know that,” Stiles cut Derek off. “Honestly, we’d probably never hear the end of it. As far as they’re concerned, we came straight here after getting blasted back to our own universe.”

The pack greeted them with a barrage of questions and concerns when Derek threw open the door to the loft.

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Scott cried. Stiles and Derek looked at each other for a moment.

“Fucking faeries,” they replied in unison.

***

For their one month anniversary Derek bought a Boombox and played the Rolling Stones under Stiles’ window, just as he requested. Stiles, however, did not rent out a screen in Times Square. He settled for a simple home cooked meal and an ‘I love you’.

**Author's Note:**

> Scene List:  
> Say Anything: boom box scene  
> Twilight: ‘say it out loud’ scene  
> Dirty Dancing: lift scene  
> Titanic: drawing scene  
> Ghost: pottery scene  
> Love Actually: ‘to me you are perfect’ scene  
> The Notebook: ‘kiss in the rain’ scene  
> Brokeback Mountain: ‘tent sex’ scene  
> Clueless: ‘Josh kisses Cher’ scene


End file.
